


Making bonds, breaking bonds

by Wanderbird



Series: Fragments [7]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Bolson meets wolf!Link, Gen, as suggested by a commenter a while back!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderbird/pseuds/Wanderbird
Summary: Bolson stared at his friend's newest travel companion.Soulful blue eyes, dark but neatly-groomed fluff, and utterly lethal teeth-- he wasn't sure about this. The creature moved wrong, worse, its *shadow* moved wrong, and something was horribly off about the way the light hit it. Plus, what kind of simple wolfos was so deadly it ended up in chains plastered with the symbols of the royal family?!No, Bolson wasn't sure how he felt about this at all.Alternate title: Sometimes eldritch abominations are good, actually?
Relationships: Bolson & Link (Legend of Zelda), Link & Link (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Fragments [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525865
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93





	Making bonds, breaking bonds

Bolson couldn’t keep the surprise from his lips, the first time he saw the thing trailing after Link. It wasn’t quite a wolfos, certainly, massive even for that species and darker in color than any he had ever seen, not to mention the oddly detailed markings traced out in the fur of its forehead. But Bolson didn’t know what else to call it—a dog? No. Something like this could never be a _dog,_ not with the eldritch way it glinted in the shadows that surrounded it; not with those cool blue eyes that glared with bright intelligence across the fire from him.  
“Link—” he broke off. “Babe, what on Farore’s green earth is _that?!”_

Link laughed.  
Ordinarily, Bolson would be overjoyed to hear that laugh, Link spent so much of his life all dull and exhausted. But this thing was—this creature made his belly churn with fear, even looking at it. It was _wrong._ It _moved_ wrong, smelled wrong, reflected the light around it wrong.  
“I mean it, sweetheart,” Bolson insisted. He tried to smile even as he edged backward. Would he be safer near the fire, or was it more important to get some distance between himself and that _thing?_ “It’s not a dog, that thing is way too big.” To say the least. And was that—was it wearing _earrings?_ Who besides Link would have ever gotten close enough to give such an animal piercings??

“Well you’re right on that point," the kid allowed.  
The creature stalked closer, sitting by the fire with an unreadable expression. It cocked its head.  
“I’m not entirely sure what it is, to be honest!” Link continued. Hesounded altogether too cheerful about that as he tapped at his Slate, not even keeping an eye on the beast. Instead of doing anything to restrain the beast, he just plopped himself down next to it, and began switching out his travel-stained hood and tunic for something fresher. That cute girly desert outfit seemed to be the winner: a sleeveless linen blouse attached at the neck with sapphire-studded gold, ending just slightly higher than the bottom of Link’s ribcage, with two gauzy, detached sleeves dyed a dark blue and patterned in white Gerudo motifs. He didn’t opt for the matching veil this time, though, so Bolson tried not to worry about which pronouns to use. Link would tell him if it mattered. Suitably dressed in clothes that _didn’t_ reek of bokoblin, Link made the introductions. “Bolson, this is Wolfie. Very creative of me on the name front, I know.” They rolled their eyes. “Wolfie, meet Bolson! Bolson built a number of the houses around here, and remodeled mine, too. He handles the renovations and any furniture I need. He’s a good friend of mine! And he might be able to get that chain off your leg.”  
“What chain?” Bolson looked back to Link in bafflement—and then he saw it. There it was, dully shiny in the sunlight, an actual honest-to-Hylia _shackle_ with some sort of magic-looking engravings on the shackle itself, and a half-dozen links of chain trailing off the end. Bolson swallowed. “Well, that’s even weirder than the earrings,” he murmured. “Do you know why it was, uh, chained up? Or why whoever did that didn’t just attach the chain to a collar like on a dog? It would probably be easier. And more effective.”  
The creature seemed to shudder at the very suggestion, but Link just shrugged. “No idea. I figure it can’t be comfortable, though.”  
“Oh, I bet not,” Bolson breathed. It must be tight to hold on to a Wolfos leg as well as it had, no matter what sorts of royal magic lurked in those symbols. “I suppose I can try, if the thing doesn’t try and gore me.”  
“It won’t.” Link assured him, a grin slipping onto his face. “Wolfie is perfectly friendly, I promise!” His expression sobered, just a little. “He’s friendly to me, at least. He probably saved my life when we first met. The last of my weapons broke, and—anyway. I’d really appreciate it if you tried to get that thing off, even if you don’t necessarily succeed. I know this might be more blacksmith work than the sort of thing you usually handle.”  
“I don’t know whose work typically involves freeing monsters from bonds plastered in the royal family’s mark, but it’s definitely not mine.” Bolson kept his voice mild while he observed. It took considerable effort to force the usual amount of cheer into his voice when he spoke again, still eyeing the creature that was not a Wolfos. “I’ll give it a shot, though. For your sake.”  
“Great!” The traveler beamed. “Thanks. I can pay you for it if you like, too, I just want to get dinner started first.”

After that, Link bustled inside—leaving Bolson alone with the beast.

“So.” Bolson wasn’t sure why he was talking to the beast. It wasn’t like the creature could understand him. He spoke out loud anyway; if nothing else, it would help him get his thoughts in order. “You saved Link’s life, and now you’re following him around, huh? Can’t blame you on that front. Link’s such a sweetheart.” He gave a wry smile, and finally let his eyes wander down to meet the creature’s. “I wonder if you have anything to do with why he’s so talkative today—even with me, trying to have a conversation with that kid can be like pulling teeth. And it’s not just the voice, either, I mean even when he has a bad throat day and has to sign even with his friends _,_ I can rarely get him to talk this much. I wouldn’t expect it if he had to speak out loud, of course, with all that damage to his throat, but signing’s normally easier for him, right? If you had a hand in his chatty mood—” Bolson let out a little sigh. “I’m glad. The poor doll deserves a little extra cheer.”  
The creature huffed, settling down onto its belly by the fire.  
The gesture was enough to get Bolson to relax a bit at last, easing back toward the warmth of the flames now that he didn’t feel _quite_ as much like the creature was about to pounce. “Where _did_ you get all your, ah, lovely jewelry, anyway? I think Link would have at least _said_ something if you were still chained up when he found you.”  
The creature said nothing, only tossed its head in what probably wasn’t actually confirmation, no matter how much it looked like it.  
Bolson sighed. “Maybe the chain is some sort of strange magical seal. The royal family did that, I heard, sealed away evil creatures of great power in bonds like those from time to time. Taking it off you is probably a _terrible_ idea.” But refusing would stopper Link’s good mood better than almost anything else Bolson could do. And getting to know this strange, scarred traveler had been one of the few true delight’s of Bolson’s twilight years! He couldn’t just let the kid down like that. He nodded rather abstractly to himself. “I’ll give freeing you my best try, I suppose. Link trusts you. I can hardly do less.” He hesitated. “Definitely not giving it a shot until he gets back, though, because no offense, but I don’t trust you not to bite my arm off as soon as I get too close.” 

Link bustled out of the house again.

Bolson couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Link always insisted on cooking proper meals for them both on the rare occasions he was in Hateno, between all his fabulous adventures—he said it made him feel in control of something for a change, and Bolson could _definitely_ understand that. It must be hard, taking on as much as Link had. He wasn’t sure why the kid seemed to feel so much responsibility for everything that happened a century ago, but he certainly did—and of _course_ something as simple and positive as cooking seemed like a font of positive change in comparison to the endless, hopeless fight against the Calamity that Link held himself to so fiercely. In any case, cooking almost always seemed to make the kid happy.  
Link quirked an eyebrow at him as he rearranged the firewood. “What're you thinking?” he asked.  
“Oh, nothing important.” Bolson waved away the attention. “Don’t worry, babe. My tools are all right here, you know—if you’d keep a hand on Wolfie for a minute, I can try and deal with the shackle.”

It turned out not to be as easy as all that.

Bolson tried to break the chain, he really did, but—well, it seemed like even in their absence, the seal of the royal family really meant something. Literally, in this case. It just… didn’t want to break. Bolson tried his shears. He tried his extra long, leverage-improving shears, too, and he and Link each took a handle and _pushed._ It didn’t so much as nick the metal. After Link’s rather one-sided conversation with the beast apparently satisfied the traveler’s worries that it might panic and lash out at them, Bolson even brought out a saw.  
This was where he ran into trouble. Not with the beast, unexpectedly—Wolfie was uncannily well-behaved, calmly seated with the chained paw in his lap, even when the shears dug into the bare, chafed skin around the manacle. No, the trouble was with the metal itself.

The saw _seemed_ to be doing alright.  
He’d managed to get a cut started, at least, and there was metal dust collecting around the saw. Bolson thought they were finally getting somewhere—and then there was a flash of green and gold, and something stung his hand like sparks on the skin. Bolson dropped the saw on instinct and jerked away, letting out an involuntary curse when the sparks followed. The beast had flinched back with a whimper when the light went off, ears flat against its head. After a few seconds of frantically trying to wipe it off on his trousers, the pins-and-needles sensation faded from Bolson’s fingers.

Wolfie didn’t seem to be so lucky.   
The beast was mostly standing by the time he looked up, and Bolson probably would have found it more intimidating were it not clawing desperately at its wrist, gnawing at the metal as though its teeth could accomplish what all the tools in his toolbox had not. The poor dear. Link made a lunge for the wolfos. He tried to keep the beast from thrashing around, trying to drag its head away from the chain; but Wolfie kept gnawing, frantic and unstoppable until Link tumbled over to its head. He sat on the creature’s paws all of a sudden and gripped it by the ears.  
“Wolfie.” Link’s voice was low and firm, and he seemed completely unafraid of those scraping claws, those flashing teeth. Amazingly, it looked like he was right: Wolfie snarled and jerked its head up, but didn’t harm the Hylian staring at him. Link spoke. “Wolfie, stop it.”  
It was fascinating watching them interact; Link pressed his forehead to Wolfie’s and his hands to its legs. He couldn’t possibly have restrained it if the beast tried to throw him off, but apparently it didn’t intend to. It met Link’s eyes instead, and its breathing slowed to match the Hylian’s; in, then out. In, out. The struggles eased. Wolfie let out a whine.  
“I know,” Link soothed. “I know. But I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself, okay? So if you can’t stop from clawing at that thing on your own, I’m just gonna stay right here until whatever’s happening is done. Do I need to stay here?”  
The wolf breathed in, and out again. Finally, it dipped its head in a nearly imperceptible nod.  
Link’s mouth twisted in response. That grim expression from when Bolson had first met the kid was back, making Link’s face look pale and old. Like a stranger. “Alright. Bolson, are you okay?” Link's words were level in tone, calm as the last man standing on a battlefield.

It took a moment before Bolson found his voice. “I’m… I’m fine, babe.” He shook out his hand. Thankfully, the sparks stayed gone. Wolfie must be getting some worse level of feedback, if it was still a problem—was it some punishment for trying to break the bonds? A side effect of whatever magic evidently held them in place? “It was just sparks, for me, some heat and fire, but it’s gone away now. Don’t worry about me.” It was a relief to see the kid unclench a little at his assurance.  
The beast’s sides were still heaving. Its eyes were closed, its head still pressed to Link’s—there had to be _something_ happening, in the shivers and slight convulsions running down the creature's spine every few seconds.  
Link sniffed at the air. “Bolson, would you—” his voice turned hoarse partway through, and he coughed. “Onions?”  
Onions. Bolson blinked. What did—oh! He scrambled to his feet, and moved off to stir the onions where they sizzled in the cooking pot. They were only slightly burned. He was nowhere near as good a cook as Link, but he could certainly tend a pot for a few minutes.

And it was only a few minutes.  
Link didn’t talk much this time, with his hands occupied and his voice tiring. But the silence was companionable enough, and eventually Wolfie drew back and gave a soft little bark, and Link spoke.  
“Is it over?” His voice was a whisper, to save the wear on his throat. Wolfie nodded. Bolson was starting to be able to read the beast, now; as an example, this nod seemed tired in the extreme. This was confirmed when Link pressed a kiss to its forehead and stood, and as soon as he was out of the way, Wolfie laid its head gingerly on its paws. Its tail flopped dully on the floor.  
“I’m sorry.” Bolson spoke up at last. “Babe, I really tried.” He glanced down at the beast and winced, feeling rather guilty when he continued. “Sorry I couldn’t get that thing off you, honey—but I don’t know magic, and there is _definitely_ some magic in those chains. It's out of my depth.”  
That was enough to get Wolfie’s eyes to open, with their impossible hypnotic blue. The massive creature stood up, as high at the shoulder as Bolson’s _waist_ normally stood, and padded slowly over to him. And while Bolson stayed so still he didn’t dare to even breathe, the wolfos looked him up and down, weary intelligence in that gaze. The creature sighed. Then after a tense few seconds, there was a cold nose nuzzling into his hand, and the great beast flopped back down with its head in his lap.

Bolson chuckled to himself.  
If this was how Link’s mysterious new companion behaved, maybe he didn’t have to worry about the kid after all! Surely a giant wolfos like this would be good protection. And if Link’s only travel companion happened to be an eldritch abomination shackled by magic steel they could not break—well, nobody’s perfect.

For the first time since meeting the beast, Bolson truly relaxed.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe everybody! <3


End file.
